Mothers know best
by Bullet'sSharpStar
Summary: Hazel Hawthorne visits Mrs. Everdeen to return her laundry. The grieving widows share a moment of grief that could spark the beginning of something more.


"Mom, why are your hands gross?" Prim hands me the plant I asked for and runs off with her cat. I sit down at the table and examine my hands. The are cold, rough and rather ugly from all the calluses and scars.

I remember the days back when my hands were a beautiful ivory color and very soft. I get up, and go over to the cabinet. I reach for the salve that will keep my hands from cracking and apply a layer to my own hands. Something shiny catches my eye in the back of the cabinet. I pull out a jar of liquid. At first, I can't place it. But when it finally comes to me, my mind floods with memories. This was a special brew for my husbands cough. Working with all that coal dust had cause a very serious one. His memory awakes pain that forces me to sit again, lest my legs give out.

I think of the time I spent after he died. The pain of his death was more than I could feel. I left my world for him, and now he had left me alone. I had shut down. I only functioned enough to live. It was only until Katniss made me come to dinner had I realized I left my own children alone. They were a part of my husband that I could hold on too. But I never let myself feel again. They too could be taken away. It was too painful. Feeling was a luxury here in 12 that I didn't want, so I didn't do it.

Prim's greeting to someone outside brings me out of my mind and to my feet. Prim enters and points toward me. "There she is." she chimes as Hazel, Gale's mom, enters behind her. She stands in the doorway with a pile of clothes I asked her to mend for me. Strands of her dark hair fall from her bun and glide across her face. "Hello" she greets me when she realizes she's alone in the doorway again, and all that's left of her escort and the cat are dust. I smile at her and welcome her in. She sets the basket on the table as I reach for a basket from the counter. "I've put in a few special things this time" I tell her. "They are labeled, but if you have any questions, you know you can ask." I set the basket in front of her. "You didn't have to do that." she says nicely. She glances at the counter and notices the special brew I had found earlier. She recognizes it just the same, as I used to make some for her husband as well. She comes to my side of the table and caresses my arm. A chill goes through me and I tighten my muscles against it. I will not feel. Hazel senses this. She backs away a few inches and looks at me.

"Are you going to shut me out?" she asks. She looks at me with understanding. She lost her husband just the same and knows my pain. But I can't afford to feel. I look down and fight back stirrings in my chest. Hazel comes forward again, and wraps her arms around me. I want to pull away. I want to be cold and dead on the inside. But a small red amber has begun to glow from the ashes. It's only a smidgen of heat, not even enough to really feel. But it sparks the memory of what a fire used to feel like. A yearning in my head battles against the warning. It's just a simple hug. And before long I loose the battle. The embers inside glow a little brighter and threaten to burst into flames. I melt into Hazel's chest and let her arms engulf me. I breathe in her scent of plain soap and soup. The embers are hot now. The memory is becoming an experience and I must pull away. A crashing noise outside interrupts us, much to my relief.

The embers start to cool off and darken. I can hear butter cup hissing and lady bellowing. I look at Hazel and she's staring at me. Her eyes scare me. They now have a hunger in them that even I can see. I've awakened something in her as well. We both were ripped from the men we loved. We walled ourselves in to protect ourselves. And now I realize, we have each other. Prim opens the door and we turn to watch her drag the ugly cat inside. Hazel laughs and gather's her things. I walk her to the door and we exchange goodbyes. I open the door and watch her pass through into the street. Unexpectedly, even to myself, I grab her hand. She looks at her hand, and then at me. I don't know what I want to tell her. I want to tell her everything. Hazel smiles slightly and nods her head. "Your welcome" she says as she pulls away and heads for her house.


End file.
